Say It This Way, Spiky
by LatteJazz
Summary: How do you tell the girl you’re infatuated with that you want to spend the rest of your life with her if you’ve never even been able to utter the simple words, “I love you”?
1. Like Powdered Sugar

**So I figured out what the problem is: Tifa's too shy to tell Cloud how she feels, and Cloud's too reticent to take charge of the relationship, so they go on and on in this never-ending circle of shyness and silence! It takes something drastic like Cloud getting makofied and falling into the Lifestream for anything major to happen! Hahaha.**

**Say It This Way, Spiky is a series of seven oneshot drabbles. Just some cute ideas on the way our spiky-haired hero could pop the question; I _had_ to share. ****The other chapters will be shorter than this. **

**Cloti forever!**

**Yeaaaahhhhhhhh!**

**Enjoy,**

**~LatteJazz :D**

**I. LIKE POWDERED SUGAR**

It was a typical day at Seventh Heaven: wake up early, set up the tables, open the doors. Smile, serve the customers, take their money, repeat. Repeat 'til six o'clock in the evening, actually. Tifa really needed to hire more employees but, however successful the bar was, the gil disappeared as if her pockets had holes in them. Between repairing the bar and Fenrir, funding the children's schooling (though Barret always chipped in), and paying bills to Midgar's make-shift government, money had been quite tight as of late.

So when Cloud slipped two tickets to _Loveless_ across the counter one evening, Tifa was more than surprised.

"850 gil?" She almost dropped the glass she had been drying. "Cloud?!"

"What?" He leaned over the counter and peered at the papers with as much worry as if there was a bug there that needed squashing.

"A _piece!?_" she almost shrieked.

"Yup. That makes 1,700, you know."

She set the tickets down and stared at him incredulously.

"Something wrong?" he asked, eyes calm and serious as ever.

Speechless, Tifa wasn't sure how to answer that question.

A flicker of worry crossed Cloud's brow. "I thought you absolutely loved _Loveless_."

She raised an eyebrow and pointed across the bar. "Because there's an old poster of it in the restroom? Cloud, this is ridiculous! _1,700_ gil! The Saucer costs less than that! That's two round trips to Wutai! And of all the usele—"

His crestfallen face brought her tirade to a screeching halt.

"I can return them," he said simply.

"No, it's not like that. I'm sorry...it's just that, you _do_ know how much this costs?"

"It's almost Christmas, Teef. Cut me some slack." She could have sworn she saw a smile tempt his features.

"Okaaaay.... If you don't like the play, maybe you can get your money back."

He did smile now and, rather triumphantly, slipped around the bar corner and tromped up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Was that whistling she heard?

_Sheesh. I didn't know he liked Loveless so much. _Tifa shook her head and reached for another glass.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

The crisp, wintry night air and the thin dust of snow gave the streets of Edge a whole new atmosphere. A clean, "new-beginnings" sort of feeling permeated the air—at least, that's what it felt like to Tifa as she and Cloud trudged the snowy sidewalks, two people made tiny amidst the grey concrete buildings and skyscrapers. Up above, the neon lights of the theatre were made even more dazzling and colorful by the dark nighttime sky. Posters and advertisements flashed festively on each corner; gaudiest of all was the twenty-foot tall, spotlight-lit poster-woman for _LOVELESS_. Since Meteor, the theater had been gradually remodeled and now, the second week of December, its first plays were debuting.

They turned in their tickets and continued to auditorium, Cloud coyly taking Tifa's hand as they wove through the teeming masses of people. Rows and rows of crimson velvet seats tapered grandly to the enormous stage; the dim lighting made the illuminated stage curtains even more appealing. Hushed murmurings permeated the room from the carpeted aisles to the balcony seats above. Tifa thought she would have liked a birds' eye view of the play from the balcony, but Cloud led her past the staircases and past the middle section, all the way to the very front row.

"You know, this place reminds me of something," Cloud noted as he reached over to help Tifa with her coat.

"Reminds you of what?"

"That night at the Gold Saucer."

Settling into the deep cushions, Tifa gazed at the heavy red curtains and couldn't help but smile. "I'm surprised you remember that."

"'And now, the great hero Alfred will rescue the Princess Rosa!'" He feigned a grimace. "How could I not?"

Tifa giggled. "Wasn't it fun, though? You know you liked it."

He made a f ace.

"When does it start?"

"Any minute now, I think."

"We're so close to the stage! There not a single row in front of us." Tifa remarked.

He smiled, glancing slyly at her. "It's VIP seating."

The lights dimmed and the curtains swept sideways just as Tifa was about to ask what VIP meant.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

"'My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey, in my own salvation and your eternal slumber.'"

The first half of the play ended and Cloud still didn't know what the "gift of the goddess" was, which of the blokes parading about the stage was the main character, or whether they were actually speaking English. Whoever wrote the thing was absurdly fond of abusing the comma.

He recalled Cid saying he had slept through everything but the ending; and while the play was definitely not holding Cloud's attention, he was far from falling asleep—the woman sitting next to him was infinitely more captivating than the play.

But with the end of each scene as the night moved on, his nerves stretched tighter…

Tifa, on the other hand, appeared to be absolutely enamored of the story unfolding before her eager eyes. Every so often he stole a glance her way. Sometimes she was on the edge of her seat in anticipation; she gasped in astonishment when one of the main characters was unexpectedly maimed; and once he thought he saw watery tears glinting in the dull light. Her mind was so wrapped up in it all, she didn't even seem to notice when his arm slipped around the back of her chair.

Cloud's own mind, however, was racing several hours into the future, repeatedly playing the same scene over and over again. His imagination never changed the scenario, but the words he planned to say were always changing. '_Tifa, we've been friends since'…no…'Tifa, can I ask you something?'…That's not it, either. _His heart pulsed faster when the curtain pulled up, signifying the end of the first half of the play, and he still hadn't figured out the right words.

"Chocolate, water or wine, sir?" asked a loud voice.

_Pop! _His high-strung thought bubble suddenly exploded and Cloud leapt reflexively out of his seat, hand flying to the empty air behind his shoulder.

_Uh-oh._

The way the server was staring at him!

He froze. Pretended to itch the back of his head. "I, uh…yes, please."

Tifa stood up and smiled sweetly. "He means he'd like a water." She took a bottle and sat back down. "Thank you." The server edged back and continued down the row.

"Sorry," Cloud mumbled, slowly sitting down.

Tifa handed him the water and opened her own. "After that emotional roller coaster, I don't blame you."

"What?" He stared at her.

"Having to leave the ones he loves only to be captured by the enemy, and then he falls in love with one of their women! Living in a cave! With all the foreshadowing and battles and emotional struggle of being torn between…." It took Cloud several seconds to decipher Tifa's enthused babbling. Wow…she was honestly enjoying this.

"…don't you empathize with him?" Suddenly she was looking intently at him.

He nodded seriously. "Yeah."

Satisfied, she turned back to the stage and her voice faded as Cloud found himself lost in her delicate, dark features and enticing skin...his face flushed and he looked away, heartbeat quickening.

_The right words, the right words…_.

He was so terrible at this sort of thing.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

All too slowly and all too quickly the fifth, final act was ending. Whoever wrote this must have been getting paid by the hour and trying to make as much as possible; even with the unfinished ending, _Loveless_ was a considerably long play.

"...I don't understand. Not at all. But...please take care of yourself." A woman stood poised dramatically near her lover. At least, Cloud _thought_ that was her lover...he was still mystified by the whole thing.

"Of course...I'll come back to you. Even if you don't promise to wait. I'll return knowing you'll be here."

Beside him, Tifa was sobbing into a tissue—the perfect opportunity to draw her to his chest and comfortingly massage her arm. But Cloud didn't take it—his hands were too hot and trembling.

And then there was a thunderous applause and the actors were taking their bows. Tifa clapped fiercely and stood up; and, being in the front row, Cloud wondered for a moment if he was the only one not offering _Loveless_ his heart-felt, standing ovation. So he stood up, but more because Tifa was standing than anything else.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Outside, the cold, dark air gave him room to think and breathe. Stars twinkled above like brilliant dewdrops.

_Crunch, crunch_. With each step, the snow gleefully reminded him he was closer to...

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

Her heard her sigh contentedly. "Sort of. We should grab something before we go to Sector 7."

"Yeah. I'm starving," he lied. The only thing in his stomach right now was butterflies. Millions and billions of butterflies.

Several late-night cafés were still open, and warm scents of bread and coffee drifted occasionally across the air. They approached the main square of Sector 8 and turned into one of the shops.

He hadn't really planned this part out…

They took a table for two at the corner where the window looked out over the square. Cloud took a menu and had to stop himself from trying to hide behind it.

"You never told me—did you like _Loveless_?" Tifa folded her arms across the table and rested a chin in one hand.

He chuckled and glanced down at his menu. "It was sort of over my head."

"Really!" Gentle laughter lilted to his ears. "Are you going to demand a reimbursement?"

"I'm thinking about it," he said just for the sake of hearing her laugh again. Why was every little thing she did driving him crazy?

"Thank you, Cloud."

"What for?"

"The play. I really enjoyed it. And I know it wasn't exactly inexpensive."

"Of course. It was worth it." Just seeing her so happy made it all worth it. In his left pocket his fingers fidgeted nervously, turning a small box over and over. He cleared his throat. "Tifa, listen…" The words tripped on their way out and got caught in his throat.

She watched him patiently, clueless as to what he was trying to say.  
"Uh, I—y-yaiouu—" Darn all these words getting mixed up with each other!

"Cloud, do you feel all right?" She frowned and leaned closer across the table, glancing anxiously at him from beneath long, hypnotizing dark lashes. Which just made it worse.

"Tifa, I, uh…"

"Cloud, you don't look well—"

"I'm fine." Now that Tifa mentioned it, he did feel a bit dizzy. _Pull yourself together! Say it!_

A slender hand reached forward to feel his forehead but he gently grabbed her wrist and pushed it away. "Tifa, stop it. I'm okay."

She drew her hand back and, tilting her head in question, stared at him dubiously.

"I'm sorry. I just kind of got lost in, uh…lost in…"

"Lost in thought," she corrected as a knowing smile shaped her lips.

"…your eyes," he confessed.

Her smile vanished into astonishment and, for once, she was the one tongue-tied.

"Tifa," he tried again. His heart was pounding as crazily as if a tiny hailstorm were taking place there. He continued, skin on fire and hands shaking again. "I--I've never…told you this before. But I've thought it too many times to count—when I wake up, when I go to sleep. Every time I see you. When I'm with you, and even when I'm not. This time I'm saying it again, only, out loud. And to the person who should hear it. Tifa: I love you." He paused, somewhat startled himself. Had he actually told her? He had! "I love you, and I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life with anybody _but_ you." He got up, slipped around the table, and kneeled at her feet. From his pocket he pulled the little velvet box and opened it to face her. "Tifa Lockhart," he barely breathed, "will you marry me?"

She didn't answer. Tears were streaming down her face, and he read twenty different emotions there.

"Teef? Is that…a yes?"

She shook her head _no_ and for an ineffably upsetting moment, Cloud thought that was her answer. But then she flung her arms around him with such ardor that he thudded to the floor. Several heads at the adjacent tables turned at the sound, but Tifa didn't care—she pressed her mouth against his ear and whispered: "With all my heart, Cloud Strife."

Outside the café's windows, snowflakes dallied to the ground like powdered sugar from the dark, cloudy night sky.


	2. Like Nobody's Listening

**yAAAAAy ... Posting this really fast before I go to do a youth scavenger hunt. Sorry if there's any typos!**

**Thank you to all the loverly reviewers from chapter one!! Made my day.**

**3**

**~LatteJazz**

**II. LIKE NOBODY'S LISTENING**

_Friday, March 20, approximately six months post-stigma. _

_Seventh Heaven, Midgar._

_7:02 PM._

"Strife Delivery Service. Yeah, this is him."

Tifa and the kids sat at the bar, eating what was left of dinner. At an unexpected phone call Cloud had slipped into the kitchen and proceeded to talk in a low voice to whoever was on the other end. Tifa tried not to eavesdrop, but swinging saloon-style doors didn't exactly lend themselves to privacy.

"…No! What makes you think that? …That's none of your business…" His voice resonated clearly into the barroom, but the other conversation was lost in tinny static.

Marlene glanced up at Tifa mid-way through a forkful of salmon, her brown eyes curious.

"No, I'm not backing out—it's only 7:00, there's plenty of time…. Yep. Okay, I'll be right down there."

_Click_. He snapped the phone shut, pushed the doors open, and walked over to stand before his unfinished dinner.

"Another delivery, right?" Denzel asked.

Cloud nodded. "Junon."

"Junon?" Tifa repeated, questioning. "All the way over there?"

"It's urgent." Cloud shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"What's the delivery?"

He was staring at Marlene's plate. "Uh…fish."

"_Fish?_" Tifa was bewildered. "Junon's a seaport town and they want you to deliver _fish_?"

"Uh, I mean, not fish—materia. Err…fish materia."

They stared at him.

"It's still being developed. I, uh…I better mosey." He was already out the door.

Surprised silence for several seconds, and then Marlene giggled. "Cloud is sure acting weird."

NNNNNNNNNNNNN

_Riiiing._

_…_

_Riiiing._

_…_

_Rii—_

The voicemail responded and Tifa hung up the phone, perplexed.

Four hours. Four hours was all it took to get to Junon, and it had been five. Where was he?

Auburn eyes flecked with worry, Tifa sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the stubborn phone. Cloud not picking up…it reminded her of half a year ago when such behavior was a habit. Back then, she was lucky to receive a text message from him. Nowadays, however, _he _was the one calling _her_ so frequently she had to remind him that she was running a bar, which included talking to the customers ("Guess I'll have to go order something, then"). Not calling and not responding wasn't like him—not anymore, at least.

1:41 A.M.

…

1:42 A.M.

Anxiety pulling at her insides, Tifa picked up the phone . . .

NNNNNNNNNNNN

"I don't think your ingenious plan is working, Mr. Delivery Boy—your little girlfriend is worried about you and she's just gonna keep calling until you tell her you haven't fallen off the face of the planet. The _last_ thing she's gonna do is fall asleep."

Cards slapped down on the table—a jack of hearts and an ace of spades—and Cloud stared at them with the most intensely concentrated of stares, as if his fierce mako eyes would make the cards obey him. He waved a hand dismissively. "Stop trying to distract me."

_Riii—_

Cloud's phone rang again, rattling the cards on the glossy wooden table. He clapped a hand over it, still staring at his hand.

"Seriously, man. Call her or we'll be here all night."

"She'll fall asleep any minute," Cloud persisted, as if repeating those words would make them come true. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead; he wiped at it with the back of his hand and frowned. "These clothes are really uncomfortable."

A sigh, and the rhythm of the cards broke. "I told you already—chicks dig guys in suits. Now hurry up and call her, or you'll have to wear it even longer."

"You'll see, she'll fall asleep. Just half an hour longer should do it."

"…All right."

_Snap, snap. _More cards. If they had been playing for gil instead of peanuts, Cloud would have been in some serious debt, judging by the gigantic pile across from him.

_Munch, munch._ "Maughn weeonuff sh—"

"I can't understand you when you talk with your mouth full."

"...Maybe…while we're _waiting_…we should find a new game to play. Like Old Maid—'cause that's what Tifa's gon—"

Cloud's death glare silenced him. Very, _very_ pointedly he picked up the phone and emphatically punched in Tifa's number, all the while staring at the uncouth Turk across from him. His gaze softened at the sound of the voice on the other end.

"Hello?" Tifa's voice sounded so tight with apprehension that Cloud felt instantly guilty.

"Hey, Teef, it's—"

"Where have you been?! Are you all right? Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm … on my way home. I was going to call you from Junon, but the reception's been a…been a gamble. Sorry to worry you." He really was genuinely sorry he had caused her so much grief. He should have phoned her a couple hours after 'leaving for Junon,' but one thing led to another and…oh, well. He'd make up for it shortly, or at least that's what he hoped….

"Okay, as long as you're all right. Come home safe."

"See you soon."

"'Night, Cloud."

"Goodnight…" He paused and wondered whether he should say what he wanted to, considering the company currently eavesdropping on his conversation. Cloud decided to pretend he wasn't there. After all, if he was going to propose the way he wanted to, he'd have to get over having other people listening; so he ignored the Turk and imagined Tifa on the other end of the phone and closed his eyes. "…Tifa? …I love you."

Surprised silence. _Wait'll she wakes up,_ he thought, smiling warmly.

"I love you, too."

He closed the phone and turned back to the cards to find his opponent grinning like an idiot at him.

"Well I'll be, Cloud! Nail me in a coffin and call me Vincent if that wasn't the _sweetest_ thing I've _ever _heard—"

The death glare returned: "Shut up and play, Reno!!!"

NNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Back at Seventh Heaven, Tifa turned off her phone and the lights before contentedly snuggling into bed. One of the best feelings in the world is, after being worried sick to your stomach over something you're sure means the end of the world, to have it all vanish in an instant. To feel the knots untie themselves and utter peace wash over your exhausted mind as every tense muscle slowly relaxed…. Tifa closed her eyes and began to drift off as she reviewed tomorrow's to do list. _Order supplies for the kitchen; conference with Denzel's teacher _(she wasn't sure if that was a good thing); _check the growing stack of mail and pay the bills…_. She yawned. _See Cloud…_

NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Something thunderously loud jolted her awake.

_Deckadeckadeckadeckadecka!_

She bolted out upright, adrenaline pounding. Bright sunshine dazzled every corner of the bedroom, nearly blinding her. She glanced wildly at the alarm clock, hand already flying to shut it off—

4:15 A.M.

…

O_o

She sprinted out of bed and into the hallway, running as fast as her sleep-heavy feet would take her—past the kids' room, past Cloud's room, around the corner and down the stairs, into the empty barroom…. Her ears still throbbed from the deafening noise.

_DECKADECKADECKADECKADECKA—_

She reached the front door and turned its silver knob (well, it _used_ to be silver, but the bewildering light transformed everything into white; even her hair looked bleached).

_DECKADECKADECKADECKA—_

The noise was even louder when she stumbled out of the door and discovered that the light wasn't sunshine, but floodlights. At least four of them beamed straight at Seventh Heaven from the alleyway and rooftops. A sort of ring was formed about her by a throng of people. And that noise—it was the beating of helicopter blades no more than fifteen feet from the top of Seventh Heaven. Pink droplets swirled and twirled through the air, dancing down from the sky like rain; they blew against her face and shoulders, getting caught against her striped pajamas and lightly kissing her neck. Arms outstretched to the cold night air, Tifa caught one as it whirled through her fingertips: rose petals?

This was a strange dream.

She stared at the chaos around her, trying to make sense of it. She wasn't left hanging for long.

_WHOOSH!_ The floodlights dimmed, casting the crowd into soft orange silhouettes and glinting off the metal edges of the helicopter. Two spotlights remained on—one a circle of sunshine on Tifa, the other illuminating the helicopter door.

Which opened. And there stood a Turk; a blond, spiky-haired Turk.

_Wait—_Tifa squinted upwards—_that's not a Turk, it's Cloud…in a tuxedo!_

This was _definitely_ one of the weirdest things she had ever dreamt.

"Tifa Lockhart!" His voice was amplified by the loudspeaker he held to his face; with his other hand he gripped a bar overhead and leaned forward over the open space. Quite a sight he was indeed, blond spikes a-flurry and black vest snapping in the chopper's wind. Tifa giggled. She didn't know her imagination was capable of conjuring up something so utterly adorable.

But what Cloud said next exceeded her imagination, and that's when she knew she wasn't dreaming.

"WILL YOU … MARRY ME?"

NNNNNNNNNNN

The next morning, Tifa woke up early (just like usual) and fixed breakfast for the family (just like usual). However, one thing wasn't so usual….

She was washing the dishes when a pair of arms slipped around her waist. "Still in denial, I see. You keep looking at your ring like you're afraid it's going to disappear."

She didn't try to hide her smile.

"You know, Teef," the arms pulled her tighter, "I'm the one in denial. When you passed out, I thought that was a definite no."

Tifa turned off the water and twisted around in his arms to face him, dark eyes sparkling mischievously. "Well, as a reminder, take _this_ as a definite _yes…_"

"…Cloud, what's fish materia? –Eeew!" Marlene had bounced around the corner, only to discover that Cloud was…elsewhere preoccupied.

* * *

**I don't usually write that kind of stuff but I couldn't help myself :3 Maybe it's 'cos it's his birthday tomorrow. I've never been so excited for another person's birthday--and he's fictional! Hahaha.**

**Anyway, review! =]**

**3**


	3. Like You Mean It

**Thanks to everyone for reviewing! Not only do your reviews make my day, but they encourage me to update more quickly! :3**

**This chapter caused me so much grief it's not even funny. O_o**

**And since it's short, take your time and enjoy it slowwwwwlllyyyyyy... :)**

* * *

III. LIKE YOU MEAN IT

How do you tell the person you're infatuated with that you want to spend the rest of your life with them if you've never even been able to utter the simple words, "I love you"?

The question plagued him with every half-held breath, with every glance into those deep brown eyes that seemed to see right through him and his boyish ways. Could she see the band of silver he twisted so restlessly in his coat pocket, or hear his hammering heart above the din of the fireworks?

She sat across from him, a vision clothed in sapphire silk that spilled blue across the velvet. Brown hair turned black in the dim light tumbled down her shoulders like ebony silk. A tinge of scarlet played beneath her eyes—a flush that he could very subtly discern from the light of the fireworks flashing through the window. The rest of her ivory skin assumed the soft glow of the shifting lights outside. Serene blue, enticing red, cool gold…she made them all beautiful.

Now she turned her gaze to him, catching him in his admiration. Familiar heat kindled beneath his skin. Since before he could count to five they had been friends, yet he looked away demurely, as if the woman across from him was a stranger and not the person he wanted with every fiber of his soul and body.

Still feeling her stare on his face, he stared into the obsidian sky. Fireworks crackled brightly there, bold and blatant.

Did she feel the same way about him?

He picked a wayward thread from the cuff of his sleeve, but the thread was imaginary and he was really stealing a glance at his watch.

_One minute left. _His mouth was as dry as hot sand. _One minute, or sixty seconds. Sixty seconds sounds better_. …

"Tifa?" he asked, then awkwardly cleared his hoarse throat: "Ahem. Tifa. I, uh...I…um…" He felt the slightest sensation of déjà vu. Summoning all his willpower, he dragged his nervous eyes to hers. "Can I…ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Will you…erm…watch the fireworks with me?" _That sounded so idiotic. What happened to playing it cool?_

If Tifa noticed how stupid it sounded, she was benign enough to let it go. She smiled and glanced next to him. "Is that seat taken?"

"No…?"

A gentle pressure as her slender fingers took his arm, and she was pressed against his side. "Then, yes. I'd love to watch the fireworks…_with_ you."

Despite the epic leap of his heartbeat, he felt the corners of his lips turning up into a smile; and he was gazing into the bejeweled sky when he felt her head nestle into chest and electricity surge through his blood at her touch. Startled, he glanced down and discovered that her lips were curved into a crimson smile. Encouraged by her response, the brazen idea of bringing both their smiles together had just crossed Cloud's mind when he remembered the clock. Reluctant but still smiling inwardly, he looked back at the night sky. "You won't want to miss this next one, Teef."

"Oh?" She looked up, head moving slightly and tickling his skin.

Just as Yuffie had promised, Wutaiin fireworks were "unmistakably blinding and deafeningly loud!" Brilliant, fiery blue sparks lit up the entire sky. First, it was a hot rose of white with petals that sprayed outward like the foam of a crystal ocean. As the petals disappeared, a sole blue spark raced downward—and then miraculously _up_. Its trail didn't disappear; and within the snap of a finger, a glowing _W_ hovered in the night air. It was followed by an _I. Then an L…L…._ A dazzling orange interlude, and the message continued. _Y…O…._

He held his breath as each word snaked into the sky, hypnotized by both the mesmerizing light show and anticipation of her answer….

The last letter sparked into darkness. Tifa still hadn't answered.

"You're…not asleep, are you?"

"No." She disentangled herself, sat up, and the fingers around his arm loosened. "I'm sorry, but _no_, Cloud."

"What?" Cold adrenaline rushed through his veins; his thoughts froze in panic. "You don't mean…?"

"Yes, I do."

Had he been interpreting all the signals mistakenly? Had he said the wrong words? Every time he tried to tell her something, the words stuck to each other and came out wrong. That's why he had asked her this way—with the fireworks. They were words already written; words that saved him the trepidation of saying it out loud.

_And I said it wrong. For the past twenty years, I've said it wrong…because I've said nothing._

"Cloud, I don't think we're right for each other. I…I know how it was supposed to be for you and for the lucky girl who got you, because I saw it three years ago: you and Aerith. I know we've been friends since we were children back at Nibelheim, and that you and Aerith knew each other maybe six months, but I'm sure you saw it too, Cloud: you and Aerith were perfect together. No, that's an understatement—you were _made_ for each other."

He blinked incredulously. "Tifa! What are you talking about? That was--"

"--Cloud, I love you…"

_Then why are you saying this?_

"…like you're my brother. And I always want to be friends. But…nothing more than friends."

Time stopped.

The ring in his pocket felt as caustic as the tears that stung his eyes "I don't underst—"

A finger against his lips silenced him. Dark almond eyes looked up at him, whispering both compassion and sadness. She gently pushed a stray spike of hair from his face. "You don't have to, Cloud. Just know that I'm doing what's best for you."

_Just friends._

…w_hat's best for me?_

He wanted to scream and sob simultaneously.

At this point in the dream he almost always woke up, and tonight was no exception.

He bolted upright in bed, chest heaving as he floundered for breath and startled blue eyes wide with disbelief. It took several seconds for his pulse to settle down and, as usual, the peculiar nightmare left him with the same doubts and qualms.

_What if she says no?_

_She can't say no._

_I'm going to say it wrong._

_But how do you say it right?_

_Should've asked her months ago. Need to stop putting this off._

_This is giving me ulcers. _

Head bowed, he stared through the floor and tried to tell himself that, beyond the shadow of a doubt, her answer would be _yes_.

Which, considering Cloud's mental strength and powers of persuasion, was pretty much impossible.

An amused voice stood out among the others. _You won't know until you ask her. Isn't that a novel idea?_

It was.

And before Cloud could change his mind, he was rummaging through his sock drawer and pulling out the little black box and marching resolutely down the hallway…at four o'clock in the morning.

He froze at her door and frowned as another novel idea came to mind: _What the heck am I doing?_

Blue light as pale as moths' wings flitted through the hallway. Silence hung in the air and draped across his shoulders and feet, keeping him leashed to the floor. Head bowed, one hand resting uncertainly on the doorknob, Cloud faltered.

_I can't do this…._

Somewhere outside, a puppy barked.

* * *

"_Sometimes, I don't know how to tell her how I feel. How do you tell her?"_

_Chuckles drifted up into the lazy blue sky. "You really don't know anything about women, huh? How are you gonna be Soldier First Class if you can't be a Flirt Third Class? Listen, Spiky. You've gotta get the message across, and the more obvious, the better. There are a million ways. Spend time with her. Buy her stuff. Call her a lot, and don't ignore it when she calls you. Don't just pretend you're the best guy she'll ever meet: __**be**__ the best guy she'll ever meet. And, my personal favorite: tease her—nicely." He chuckled, but something like wistfulness quieted his next words and Cloud had to strain to hear them: "Build her a flower wagon."_

_Cobalt heavens whirled, shifting into emerald fields as the cadet sat up, wind tousling his sun-colored hair. With a mixture of curiosity and frustration, he studied the man sprawled in the grasses across from him. "…Zack?"_

"_Hmn?"_

"_Thanks for the advice, but… you didn't exactly answer my question."_

_Zack propped himself up on one elbow and raised an eyebrow, his mako-blue eyes grinning in amusement. "Whatcha trying to say now, Cloud?" _

"_How do you…put it into words, Zack? How do you __**say**__ it?"_

_The SOLDIER laughed loudly and flopped back into the long grass. "Spiky, that's the easy part! Just say it like you mean it."_

"_Well, that makes a lot of sense."_

"_Really?"_

"_No." _

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

_I think I understand now._

Quiet footfalls as his bare feet padded across the room to her bedside. He studied her sleeping face contentedly for several moments, then sank to his knees.

_There are no right words, and no wrong words._

He lightly touched her shoulder and she stirred.

_In fact, it's not even about the words._

A peculiar peacefulness steadied his hand, and the tips of his fingers curled softly into her palm. He squeezed her hand gently. "Tifa, wake up."

Sleepy eyes opened and chocolate orbs stared up at him, first drowsy and then concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah. I've been dallying again."

She shifted up a little, perhaps trying to get at eye level with him, but as it was he was kneeling on the floor. If it bothered her that it was an unhealthily early hour of day, she was angelic enough not mention it—instead, she touched his hand. "I'm listening."

"Tifa, I've been dallying for the past twenty-four years and I can't handle it anymore. So I'm just going to tell you now…"

"Cloud? What's on your mind?"

"You, Tifa. I love you."

Eight little letters, three little words: _I love you_. But the passion in each word was one that had been restrained for far too long. A rich fervor painted his voice red, and the little words couldn't contain the meaning behind them. His body trembled and his hands shook beneath hers—but not from nerves.

"I'm done wasting time, Teef. So…" Blushing madly, he placed the little box in front of her and eased it forward.

"You're not going to say what I think you're going to say, are you?"

He stared her straight in the eyes. "Marry me?"

He said it like he meant it. And Zack was right: it really was easy.

* * *

**Kind of brainwashed after writing this for an unhealthily long time, so my author's notes section is also fried.**

**[--- Enter random comment here ---]**

**Mentioning The Puppy makes want to write Zack/Aeris now. . . . **

**Hoped you liked it. You better have liked it, for how long it took to write. Kidding. ;-)**

**Yours truly,**

**~LatteJazz**

**PS: Which of the three is your favorite so far?** (I'm trying to write Cloud seven different ways and it's a little like stepping into quicksand, I think, because while I want to keep him in character, it'd be boring to read the same Cloud seven times).


	4. Like You're Sober

**It's been so long since I posted something, I forgot how to format the title!**

**Do you ever work on something until it's perfect...and then work on it again? And again? And then put it off, or try it again, but it accomplishes absolutely nothing? That's where I've been with this particular chapter. I had inspiration for it, but my freshman year of college sort of diluted that inspiration and motivation. (My heartiest of thanks to great friends Alisha, Courtney, and Clarisa; without their encouragement and inspiration I may never have finished this stupid thing! xD Yes, I yelled at this chapter on MULTIPLE occasions! So much grief. So many tears. So much sweat. *Emo party* --although that's sort of an oxymoron, n'est-ce pas? Heheh.)**

**And today it's Christmas. **

**The tradition of gift-giving is one begun a long time ago when Someone came to our world--not to judge us for what we've done wrong, but to rescue us through the gift of Himself. **

**Anyway, I don't personally know all of you like a certain Person does, but consider this my gift to you. I hope you enjoy it. =] **

**(Actually, you'd BETTER enjoy it after all the pain it put me through...kidding.)**

**Merry Christmas! =]**

**[insert cute li'l hearts here]**

* * *

**IV. LIKE YOU'RE SOBER**

They had chatted about everything from the old AVALANCHE glory days to the reconstruction of Midgar (which was taking place right outside the bar as they spoke) when Yuffie blundered into a startling revelation. She had such a vivid, preconceived notion of how everyone's stories were supposed to end, so the prospect of a different ending surprised her. But she knew Cloud. She shouldn't have been surprised.

"So, Tifa," the innocent question had begun in the privacy of the empty bar, "you and Cloud are still together, right?"

"What do you mean, 'together'?"

"Like, _together_, together."

Tifa laughed. "No, we're not. Weren't, to begin with."

The nineteen-year-old slammed her glass down. "_What?_" Water splashed up the sides and fell to the counter. "But—but you've been gaga for each other for a kazillion years now! You're practically raising a kid together—and on top of that, you're living in the same _house_! What's 'not to begin with'?!"

Tifa didn't miss a beat as she placed a glass back on the shelf. However, ill-concealed emotion flickered across her face. Wistfulness? Nostalgia? Confusion? "It's strange, Yuffie. I…I understand him—very well. Sometimes it's like I can read his mind, and I can see why he does what he does. Even when he's quiet, I know what he's saying. But there is one thing I can't figure out." She paused, eyebrows drawing together in puzzlement.

"Aaaand?" Yuffie prodded.

"It's the way he acts toward me. I don't get it."

Yuffie burst into incredulous laughter. "You mean—Tifa, you--! You think he's—"

"'Not interested.'" She impersonated Cloud with a smile and a wave of the hand, but it was a half-hearted facade. "In that way, I mean. But we're very close. I'm just not sure if he wants to get any…uh…closer than we already are. Which is fine," she added quickly. "I just…I wouldn't want to rush in to anything." A smile hesitated at her lips. "I just want him to be happy."

_ Happy?_ Yuffie gawked. _Happy?_ _You want him to be happy, but you don't realize what truly makes him happy: you._ "Are you blind, Tifa?!" she shrieked.

"What?" blinked the bewildered bartender.

At that moment the adjoining garage door opened and there stood the unsuspecting subject of their conversation himself, his mouth half-open as he paused midsentence. "Hey Teef…uh, hello. Didn't expect to see you here, Yuffie."

Yuffie smiled sweetly. "Hi. Go away. We're having a discussion."

He raised an eyebrow**.**

"A _discussion,_" emphasized Yuffie. She gestured toward the door.

He shrugged, puzzled, but closed the door—only to open it half a second later. "Before I forget, I needed to ask: Tifa, have you seen the keys to my bike?"

Tifa frowned. "…Your left hand, Cloud."

"Oh. Right." A tinge of pink crept into his face. He flashed an adorably embarrassed smile before closing the door again.

"Did you see that?" Yuffie breathed after he had left.

"See what?"

"The face."

"…What face?"

"_The_ face, Tifa."

"_The_ face?" repeated Tifa, baffled.

"HIS FACE! Aw, forget it."

Tifa glanced sidelong at her friend, head slanted quizzically. Her clueless expression made it evident that she was obviously oblivious to every second of Cloud's lovesick awkwardness. Couldn't she see the way he flushed beneath her gaze? The way a simple glance stole his stumbling words away?

Yuffie moaned in disbelief and plopped her head in her hands, ninja headband drooping sadly to the table. "Cloud and Tifa" was what happened when two people--painfully shy yet hopelessly head-over-heels—got together: nothing. Anyone within ten miles of those lovebirds could see they were meant for each other, so why couldn't they? Why couldn't that stupid delivery boy swallow his insecurities and tell the girl of his dreams, who was equally blind to his feelings for her, how he felt? _Tifa, Tifa, Tifa,_ Yuffie chided mentally. _They say love is blind, but in the case of you two, I'd say you didn't have eyes to begin with. We've got some work to do. _

……………………………

It had been necessary to procure a little extra help. She had thought the others would laugh her idea off, but when the rest of AVALANCHE had heard word of Yuffie's devious scheme, they insisted on joining the fun. Perhaps they were as equally fed up with the two as Yuffie was and just wanted the love triangle (err, love _line_) to be resolved. Perhaps they just enjoyed lecturing the delivery boy. Either way, Yuffie intended this very evening to persuade Cloud into professing his undying love for Tifa. By "persuade" Yuffie meant "guilt-trip" (something Cloud was always vulnerable to), but in the end it became much more than a simple "I love you."

A slight mist drifted through the streets of Edge. Late autumn winds chased leaves of orange across the sidewalks and pressed them against the windows of Seventh Heaven. Inside, the bar was teeming with people and light and warmth and noise. Amid the hustling and chatter of the bar stood two people not in search of a warm meal or drink, but a certain skulking blond man. They scanned the room, the shorter girl with the wild boots standing on tiptoe to do so, but the hulking giant of a man beside her peered effortlessly over the crowd. "There he is."

They pressed through the throng of people toward the back wall. Their unsuspecting victim had just stepped through a side door was now making his way toward the back of the bar. A large metal hand grabbed his shoulder and Cloud whirled around, startled.

"Yo, Cloud. It's just me."

"Hey, Barret. Yuffie. It's been a while."

"Yeah! You got a moment? We need to talk."

"Is something wrong?"

Yuffie chimed in before Barret could answer: "Yeah, something _is_ wrong." She nodded seriously, one hand on her hip. "An AVALANCHE crisis—one like we've never seen before."

Cloud glanced at Barret as if to confirm this information, as it didcome from a questionable source. Barret nodded.

"Okay," Cloud consented. They led him to a large wooden booth near the window, which was empty except for Cid. The pilot grinned impishly at him, a grimy cigarette between his teeth. Cloud slipped in across from him, frowning.

"Why you lookin' at me like that, SOLDIER boy?"

"Cid, didn't you read the sign?"

"Eh? What's that?"

"'No smoking'…?" The disgust in his tone was unmistakable.

"You serious, Cloud? Since when did you have a problem with--"

"It's bad for you and it's bad for the kids, Cid," he said in a tired sigh.

The pilot muttered something under his breath before resignedly crushing out his cigarette.

_Well, he may not be in the best of moods; but on the bright side, he's definitely ready for kids,_ Yuffie thought. "Ahem!" She slapped her hand on the table to get their attention. "Let the meeting begin. I'll get right to the point because I mean business. Cloud, this meeting is mostly about you."

"Me?" He glanced at them, confused. "I thought you said we had a problem?"

"Yes, Cloud. You are the problem."

"You and Tifa, to be exact," cut in Barret.

There was a moment of mystified silence. Then Cloud froze. If it were possible to pale under such a light complexion, he would have been whiter than Modeoheim in winter. "Wait a second. If this is you guys trying to run my personal affairs, let me tell you right now that I'm one hundred percent _not _interes_—"_

"Cloud, don't look now but you ain't _got_ no personal affairs! That's why we're here. We're your pals. We wanna help you, so listen. Mebbe someday you'll thank us."

Blue eyes narrowed to sarcastic slits. "From the kind of advice you usually give me, I somehow doubt that."

"Sit down and SHADDUP!" ordered Cid, but Cloud didn't really have a choice--they were prepared to resort to physical abuse if that's what it took to make him stay.

Yuffie was just about to dive into the lecture when a familiar black skirt appeared at the end of the table and there stood Tifa with a platter of drinks. "Hey guys!" she chirped. "More than two is a party, so I thought I'd bring some drinks over. How's it going?" She placed sparkling golden glasses in front of them, completely oblivious to the humiliated delivery boy in the corner.

"We're jes' havin' an AVALANCHE meeting," Barret said, pointedly staring at Cloud.

"But you're not invited," put in Yuffie hastily.

"An AVALANCHE meeting and I'm not invited?"

Cloud risked a glance in her direction and she caught his eyes, looking for an answer. He looked away. "It's a men-only meeting," he muttered weakly.

"Just what does that make me?!" Yuffie protested.

He stared at her. "You're not a woman, you're a girl."

Amid the growling and foot-stamping that followed, Tifa picked up the platter and shifted her weight uncertainly. "Well…let me know if you need anything."

Once she had left and was out of earshot, three gleeful faces directed their attention to a wide-eyed Cloud—who was currently melting into a puddle of pure mortification.

"Make it fast…and as painless as possible," he said miserably.

…………………………………………

Tifa had no idea what was going on in that corner of the bar, but she was sure it wasn't pleasant—not for Cloud, anyway. His face changed color more than twice. Once, he tried to get up and leave, but sat down again. Maybe Barret's expression persuaded him to stay, or maybe the others said something that changed his mind. Normally, Tifa would have laughed at his ridiculous facial expressions, which ranged from sickened to shocked, but she was more annoyed at not knowing what provoked these expressions. It must have been something serious: Cloud seemed to have developed a nervous drinking habit. Again and again Tifa refilled his glass, each time trying to overhear the conversation. Her eavesdropping efforts were in vain--the bar was too noisy, and they changed the subject each time she approached. (Somehow, just _somehow_, she doubted they were really discussing the possibility of Rufus ShinRa beginning a fashion line for wheelchairs.)

Why wouldn't they tell her? Maybe a dangerous crisis was threatening the city and they wouldn't let her listen because Cloud was being paranoid. Maybe they were discussing a suitable birthday present for her—but that was a selfish thought, and probably unlikely. Maybe she hadn't the faintest idea as to what they were talking about. Yes, that was it.

"I have no idea," she said aloud, staring absently through a puzzled customer.

……………………………………

It was working.

Yuffie crunched happily on an ice cube (her favorite food).

By all the materia in Gaia, it was working!

She popped another ice cube in her mouth, munching them like popcorn as she watched the entertainment, which was—surprisingly—Cloud. At the moment, he seemed completely hypnotized in the conversation now as he had been several hours ago.

"But you gotta act soon," Barret was saying with great persuasion and emphasis and spreading of the arms. "Ain't you a man? The man's supposed to be a man, an' go chase his girl. Don't make her do all the work, cuz that ain't her part." (Yuffie and Barret had taken up most of the persuading after Cid tried to compare a man and woman's relationship to some obscure technological terms found only in the engine of a rocket. Needless to say, the illustration was completely lost on Cloud.)

"No more dilly dallying," the delivery boy nodded seriously, sipping the golden liquid in his drink. "I'm gonna say it, guys."

"Say what?"

"I'm gonna say: 'I…I care for you, Teeeefa Lockhart.'"

"That's it?"

Cloud glanced from face to face, evidently confused. "I _really…_care for you, Tifa Lockhart." He said it like a question.

"No, Cloud."

Crestfallen, he stared into his glass for several seconds. Then his head jerked up in sudden inspiration. "_Love_! 'I love you, Teef," he proclaimed triumphantly.

Yuffie applauded. "Now why don't you trying telling her that?" she encouraged.

His half-grin disappeared. "I can't. It's just that…what if this is a one-way thing? What if, she doesn't like me back?"

"Spiky, we've been through this already, remember?"

"Oh yeah…she's crazy about me, but I don't know it."

"Right! And even if she weren't, you've got to…? (Psst! Fill in the blank.)"

"I've got to…take a risk."

"Bingo! See? You've got this! I don't know what you were talkin' 'bout when you said you was bad with words an' all that crap. It's all gonna smooth over. You can do this, Cloud."

"I know! I don't know what's wrong with me," wailed the delivery boy, "because that's exactly what I told myself when I bought the ring--"

Yuffie choked on an ice cube. "The _ring?! _You bought her a RING?" Here they were, simply trying to make him get more obvious message across to Tifa, but apparently he had already been thinking along these lines and wanted to take it to a whole new level.

His eyes glinted like those of an excited schoolboy who knew a particularly juicy secret. "Do you want to see it?"

They watched as he scrambled to his feet and, blond spikes bobbing below the taller customers, proceeded to weave around the crowd, through the bar, past Tifa, around a corner—and right into the women's restroom. His scarlet face crept back into sight after he realized his mistake. Tifa, who had been watching him, looked concerned and pointed to the stairs, gently pushing him in that direction, and stared in bewilderment after him.

He returned a few minutes later to the table. He rummaged in his pockets and produced a faded grey sock. With the cunning stealth and sneakiness of a SOLDIER 1st Class, he removed a black velvet box and shyly displayed the sparkling ring inside. "This is an engagement ring. I didn't to buy a wedding ring, because there's always the change she'll say no." For the amount of money he spent on this one, he might as well have bought a wedding ring instead. It was slender band of silver that elegantly sprouted tendrils. They curved attractively around a very, _very_ gil-happy diamond.

"When did you get this?" asked Cid.

"A while ago."

"As in?"

He paused and seemed to calculate mentally: "Five months. And a week."

Yuffie wished she had something harder than the table to bang her forehead against.

All this time Barret had been quiet, but now he frowned and sighed. "That's a nice rock, Spiky—but it don't mean a thing if it ain't on her finger."

Cloud stared out the window. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. And opened it and closed it. The box in his hand snapped shut; he stuffed it and the sock in his pockets. "Move over, Yuffie."

"What?"

"I'm leaving. Move."

"But Clou—"

She toppled onto the ground as Cloud pushed his way out of the booth. They watched as he took several steps into the crowd. Then he paused, back to them, and turned and paced back to the table whereupon he took his glass and hastily downed the rest of his drink. After slamming it loudly back down on the wooden table, he grunted and turned back across the bar.

………………………………

"I never really had a family."

The voice sounded familiar. Tifa turned around. She had been half-listening to snatches of small talk and sob stories, along with the occasional tipsy joke. After years of working in a public place all the voices sounded more or less the same, but this one—deep, soft and contemplative—never failed to draw her attention.

"Cloud. Can I get you something?"

He was staring at her, detached. "I'm fine, thanks."

"You don't look well."

"I feel kind of sick, actually."

It wasn't like him to admit things. Not when he had the stigma, not when he didn't make SOLDIER…not in any crucial moment. But even trivialities he seemed to struggle with, as if they were weaknesses. Maybe he was having something as simple as a stomachache but was too egotistic to admit it. "You should go lie down."

"Not that kind of sick." His eyes flickered down to his hands folded neatly on the counter. The dim light above cast vague shadow across his face, washing it grey save twin flames of dark blue.

"All right?" Tifa said doubtfully. She left the counter and pretended to occupy herself somewhere else. But his eyes were still linked to her; she could feel them. It was awkward and she compulsively rearranged the objects nearest to her, two bottles and a decorative basket of fruit. In the dark, polished glass she saw his reflection.

"Tifa?"

She turned around.

"I lied. I am sick."

"Then go t—"

"Sick for you, I mean."

Well, that stopped her. This was something else entirely. She'd never heard him say anything like this, and "being sick" was his first attempt at a romantic expression, she wasn't sure whether to be flattered or floored. Maybe a little of both. She knew that, as a friend, he cared about her—it was a mutual, unspoken feeling—and she wanted to believe him now but he was obviously not in his right mind. "Are you feeling tipsy?" she asked with a straight face, even though she knew him better than that.

"N…uh, no? Maybe?" It sounded like his tongue didn't know how to form words; they were jumbled in whatever state of a mind he had; and they formed awkwardly, clumsily. "Hold on a sec…."

She watched him suspiciously. "Are you sure you didn't drink something?" Glancing at the far table where the rest of the company was seated, she noticed the gang was intently focused on them. Barret saw her staring. He coughed inaudibly, elbowed Cid, and then seemed to find something fascinating in his fingernails. Whatever they had been scheming about over there, she was now convinced it everything had to do with Cloud's strange behavior and nothing to do with an AVALANCHE meeting. Eyes narrowed, she turned back to the bar. "Cloud. You know I'm not going to—HEY! Get down from there! What on earth are you doing?"

Apparently his body was moving much faster than his mind. He was standing—_standing_—on top of the high bar counter.

A subtle turning of his lips almost grew into a full smile, but stopped at the seriousness in his eyes. They locked gaze for several long seconds, his mysterious to her incredulous, before he cleared his throat. When he spoke, it wasn't to her.

"Excuse me," he tried in a moderately loud tone, looking out across the room and the heads now far below him. His mouth felt somewhat dry but he needed the crowd's attention so he cupped his hands over his mouth and—"EXCUSE ME. Shut up and listen! Err…can I have your attention, please?" he yelled. That got few heads. _Look. The man who saved the world is standing intoxicated on the counter and he wants us to shut up._ Gradually the room quieted. At the bar, several customers strained sideways for a better view. Cloud didn't particularly desire the audience of half the low lives in here (his friends were the ones who needed to hear), but if they were fated to be present for this unprecedented chapter in _The Romantic Life of Cloud Strife_, now was the golden opportunity.

Now. The room was packed, and almost every head was turned his way. He swallowed. "Thank you. Ahem. As you all know or don't know, I, uh.... I'm awful at speeches." He really was awful and his hands and forehead felt uncomfortably hot. Probably because he was closer to the ceiling lights up here. "Don't worry--I'm not going to ask you to sing happy birthday to anybody. I just want you to listen to what I've got to say. I've been…" he faltered. Stood up straighter, heart pounding because one of the faces staring at him made him stronger and weaker all at once. "I've been too reticent, before. But today I think I can verbalize something that has been staring me in the face, unspoken for far too long. A sickness. A fascination. An addiction. Something that took the advice of my friends, some soul-searching, and several drinks for me to finally come to grips with: my feelings for Tifa Lockhart."

Up to this point, Tifa had been suspecting a full-blown confession of a secret mako addiction or something along those dark, wild lines. But this…_she_, Tifa Lockhart, was the topic? Maybe she'd fallen asleep at the bar and this was an illusion—but it felt undeniably real. She put a hand against the bar to keep from melting to her knees as he went on.

"You probably just see her as the bartender—" (he hesitated and by the blush that colored his face appeared to refrain from adding something else to that description) "—but to a lot of people here, she's a lot more. Especially to me. She's the girl I grew up with. Dreamed about. Went to war for, took a scar for her." His fingers brushed his dark shirt and the old wound underneath, the only tangible evidence left of the reactor incident seven years ago. "A couple years ago, I even, uh…wore women's clothing and was assaulted by half-naked men of questionable merit in attempt to rescue her." This elicited hoots of laughter from across the room, as well as a deepening red in Cloud's face. "And it turned out she didn't even need rescuing in the first place. No, it's the opposite--it seems she's always the one saving me. I've…lost myself. More than once. But she always brings me back. Tifa. I don't know why it has taken me so many years to understand this; and I don't know why it's so difficult to say how I feel, but it comes down to this: do you remember my promise? If you'll let me, I want to keep it now. That is," and he stared softly at her with those heart-melting eyes: "_forever_, now."

His lips kept moving but no sound came out because she was trapped in cerulean. There was a little black box in his hand with something sparkly inside and, oddly, he was kneeling on the countertop. The room was so silent that the ringing in her ears seemed louder than her heartbeat. She felt there was some sort of link between what he was doing and what he was saying, but nothing registered. She heard herself say: "Get your muddy feet off the counter and maybe I'll think about it."

And the usually graceful Cloud Strife must have been truly sick with love because he toppled in shock to the floor.

………………………………..

"You were betting on me?!" was the first thing Cloud said to several unexpected guests after the on-the-house drinks had been drank and most of the entertained crowd had begun to disperse. The ex-Turk and his canine friend had apparently witnessed the entire spectacle—but not without betting on the outcome of Cloud's expression skills. Vincent almost looked as if he were sulking as he pushed a fistful of gold bills across the table to a smug Nanaki. "I'm disappointed in you, Cloud. This was the one time your emoism might have been profitable," muttered Vincent.

"It's emo_NESS_! Get it RIGHT! And it's not like you have room to talk," yelled Yuffie, leaning over from the back of the table behind them.

Tifa was trying to define the word _emo_ for Cloud, who was rather mentally distracted in holding her hand, without using Vincent as the definition when Cid rounded the corner. "I believe congratulations are in order?" He shook Cloud's free hand. "You said you were 'awful at speeches.' I think that's a lie, 'cause Barret was bawlin' his eyes out."

"Shut yer hole; of course I wasn't…" The massive man approached and enthusiastically clapped Cloud on the shoulder. A mischievous grin was plastered on his face. "After all the hard talk that we had to git through that thick skull of yours, the least you could do to repay us is have a couple o' spiky-haired rug-rats crawlin' around here next time I visit."

Judging by Cloud's response to this mild suggestion, it was lucky for Barret that Tifa prohibited brawls indoors.

* * *

Night had fallen and, outside, silken grey mist had been replaced with almost imperceptible snowflakes. Cloud and Tifa slipped away from the lively company a the quieter, cooler place on the steps outside where they stood now; Cloud leaned against the wall and Tifa backlit by golden light inside. Ever the cautious one, Cloud was awkwardly recalling something Zack had said about the first time you kissed a girl when the door opened.

There were several minutes' worth of greetings and thanks as the gang filed out. There was much laughter, shaking of hands, well-wishing, and thanks. Yuffie was especially triumphant. "Well, guys, we did it. It took a lot of effort on your part and I'm proud of you. It was high time these two hooked up. Even if," she looked smugly at Cloud, "even if we had to get him drunk to do it."

"Yuffie," countered Cloud, "I don't drink."

"Huh?"

"I wasn't tipsy: that was apple juice."


End file.
